


Gonna Hold You So Close

by missbeizy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Poly!verse, Polyamory, RPF, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:31:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poly!verse.  Chris/Darren and then a Darren/Chris/Will sandwich after that, both in-the-middle bottom!Chris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gonna Hold You So Close

It's the week after they film the proposal scene that gets to him.

He isn't sure why, exactly—there's nothing in particular about it either before or after that had made him feel any differently than he had about any of their romantic scenes in the past. He's always been on the fence about what playing this kind of relationship means to him; he has his good days and his bad days, and he has disagreed with Darren about it as often as he has agreed with him.

In the end, Chris just doesn't want it to define him, either as an actor or an artist. He doesn't want to be a poster boy. He feels the restriction of that possible definition as keenly as the power behind the story, and some days it's like being quietly strangled even though he knows what a big deal it is, how _good_ it is for so many people.

Not to mention that his appreciation for a narrative based around teenage romance is about as thin as it can be without being called nonexistent. He wishes that the story had grown differently—darker, wider, stronger, more complicated. He's wished a lot for Kurt Hummel. What he's come to realize is that he needs to obsess over the things that he can change and not the things that he can't. He makes suggestions now that he's full time again, some silly, some serious, and a lot of it sticks, and he's happy with that. It's not so bad. Most days it's actually a lot of fun.

He and Darren have this conversation in an abandoned makeup trailer at one in the morning, because since filming the scenes they haven't talked about them and Chris really needs to.

They had when the scripts first came out, of course, over the summer mostly through text messages that had basically come down to _are you reading this_ and _um okay what the fuck_ and then Will had chimed in with _oh good lord_ (and then in private had admitted to Chris that he thought it was adorably romantic and that he loved it and he'd cooed over the soulmate thing for hours) and Mia had just sort of summed it up with _LOL rock on guys_ and Chris decided to let it be amusing—just another day on the job.

It turned out to be pretty awesome in parts (he'd loved the scope of the choreography) once he got past the hasty premise, but since then he and Darren have just sort of coasted. So Darren starts the conversation and Chris finishes it and by the end Chris has his legs in Darren's lap and Darren's eyes are half-shut because they're both fucking exhausted. It's been a long week.

He'd lost track of how much time Kurt Hummel had spent with his mouth on Blaine Anderson's last week, but he feels like he hasn't had his on Darren's at all. And suddenly, after eight days, that seems unacceptable. He crawls into Darren's lap on the trailer sofa, puts his arms around Darren's shoulders and rectifies that.

When they stop to breathe, Darren whispers roughly, "Hey, what was that for?" They typically have some kind of banter or flirtation before they start in, even now, even with the word boyfriend thrown around like nothing.

Chris thinks about make-up and lights and booms in their faces and dozens of people staring at them, taking their cues. He thinks about wanting to do it perfectly, wanting to convey every single thing Kurt had felt with just his face and shoulders and every roll of his eyeballs. He thinks about that over the top proposal speech and Blaine's wide eyes staring up at him when Kurt had only two words to say and they had to be flawless. He thinks about how sweaty he'd been and that Darren had had a pimple on his face that had been so distracting they'd laughed about it in between takes, and then there had been the one time when he'd almost swallowed and choked on a fake rose petal and the one time Darren had passed gas and ruined a take and the one time Darren had tripped on the step between them and had almost taken them both down in a tangle of limbs, and before he can control it he's laughing into Darren's mouth and kissing him again.

"You're an idiot," he says softly, fondly, as one might say _I don't know why I adore you but I really, really do_.

And Darren, who can read moods like a clairvoyant, smiles and slides his fingers up Chris' back and replies, "Why thank you" in a half-accent that even Chris can't identify.

He can't remember the last time it had been this sweet, this easy. He presses his lips in a soft line from Darren's jaw to his throat. "Come home with me? Will's with his friends."

"Can do," Darren answers, pinching his thigh. "You'll have to let me get up first."

Chris smiles, loose and eager. They bump shoulders all the way through the parking lot.

 

*

 

Darren is on him before they even get past the kitchen, petting his lower back and kissing him, all tongue and deep presses, and then they fail to make it to the staircase. Darren guides him against the wall that separates the stairway from the hall, pushes his wrists above his head and keeps on kissing him.

"Sometimes," Darren says, breathing humid and warm down Chris' neck, "I think you think I don't get it. But I do. I just don't agree."

"Ditto," Chris says, and it comes out as a half-squeak because Darren's' tongue is on his pulse point and Darren's hands are tugging his t-shirt up and over his head. "Except you are totally wrong."

Darren laughs against his collarbone, fingertips dancing across his fly. "And you're a demanding diva who just wants everything his way."

"Except you're _totally wrong_ ," Chris repeats, grinning, tongue flicking over his lips as he watches Darren open his jeans. "Bed?"

Darren smiles, slow and hot, locking their gazes as he reaches in to cup Chris through his underwear. "Eventually." He fishes Chris out and begins stroking him. "Mm—yeah."

He looks so confident in the near-darkness of the hallway, messy hair and bright eyes, a worn t-shirt and jeans hanging on his compact frame delicious and haphazardly. Chris' mouth goes wet at the sight and he can't seem to stop touching. It's not long before he has his hand down Darren's pants, too, and they're jerking each other off and kissing and it feels so good. The almost-sore tenderness from before is still there on top of the raw physicality of the moment.

"I want you to fuck me," he says.

Darren inhales audibly and then kisses him, hard. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replies, sliding one hand back around to Darren's ass to pull him in. "Want you to fuck me and come in me." Darren's cock throbs in his hand in response. It's the only response he needs, really.

Darren pushes his jeans down around his knees and then peels his boxer briefs down just past the swell of his buttocks. "Turn around.”

Chris hesitates, because he's very much used to being in charge, but then Darren is kissing his naked shoulders and stroking that sensitive spot on his lower back just above his ass and he melts and gives in, turning with his arms up against the wall and his cheek tucked against them and then Darren sinks to his knees and gently bites the curve of his ass.

"Oh my god," Chris exhales, half-laughing and half-surprise.

"Wanna eat you out," Darren says, biting and biting and biting until Chris can feel the faint teethmarks all over his ass cheeks. It's silly and too much and so very, very Darren. And then he stops thinking entirely because Darren is lapping at his asshole like there's no point to working up to it, tongue wet and thick and strong as it does exactly what it wants. His lips join in, suckling Chris' rim, and then his fingers, spreading Chris open and making him fall forward against the wall. _Fuck_ , he is good at this.

"God, yeah," Chris moans, and he can't help it, he has to put a hand on Darren's head, has to tangle his fingers through Darren's curls and _push_. "Fuck, yeah, get in there," he mutters, eyes shut, body quaking with heat and sensation as Darren licks inside. "Oh _fuck_ yeah."

"Where do you want me?" Darren asks in between obscenely loud, wet slurping passes.

"Bed," Chris gasps, riding back against that shameless, filthy tongue.

He steps out of his jeans and underwear, heedless of the clothing and shoes strewn across the floor. Darren leaves his shirt there but Chris stops him before he gets to his jeans, taking him by his belt loops and tugging him in for more kisses. Their cocks are hard, brushing every time they press close, and Chris is so fucking horny that he can't think straight.

Darren chases him up the stairs, laughing and tripping a few times. It's so dumb, sometimes, the way they can be, like kids. Chris used to hate it and now he understands just how it works, how he fits into it, and it doesn't feel like mockery anymore. He isn't sure if it ever was—in fact he's fairly sure that it never was—but he has always been sensitive to the point of paranoia.

He goes right for the master suite. Inside, kneeling on the bed with his jeans open around the tent of his erection, Darren asks, "Okay to be in here?" It is Chris and Will's bed, after all.

He nods. He doesn't feel like being with Darren in the guest bedroom tonight. He feels like getting properly fucked in his own bed. He wants Darren there.

On the bed, Darren rolls over on top of him and settles between his legs, guiding them around his hips and then kissing him again. "You could kill someone with these. There is that much of them."

"Shut up and touch me," Chris replies, smiling into Darren's mouth. They make out a little, rutting and breathing heavily, but Chris loses patience after about five minutes and pushes the lubricant tube at Darren, thighs spreading. "Finger me?" he asks, helping Darren out of the rest of his clothing.

Darren kisses Chris' chest and nipples briefly, then edges two fingers inside of him and Chris' body goes loose with the pleasure. It's good; it's definitely what he wants right now and oh _yes_ Darren is talented at this, at angling his fingers just right, at knowing how much lubricant is enough.

"Mm, tight," he huffs out, dragging his teeth down over Chris' nipples. He picks a speed and sets his wrist and then after a minute or two asks, "Like that?"

"Harder," Chris replies. The pressure is perfect then, and Chris shifts lower on the bed, dragging the pillows beneath his head and tugging at Darren's arms. "Hey. Come here?" And before he has to ask for it Darren's mouth is on his, even as his hand moves between their bodies and Chris' legs, keeping him open. They aren't usually this intimate, this face to face, but Chris wants it right here and now and has no interest in questioning himself.

He can feel Darren hard and warm against his leg. He can't resist putting his hands on Darren's ass, squeezing the sweet round curve of it to make Darren's cock drag up and down his thigh.

"Fuck," Darren hisses, and Chris squeezes his ass harder. "Fuck, let me—"

"Yeah, come on," Chris whispers, getting another handful of lubricant between their bellies. "Come on. Fuck me."

Excitement makes Darren shake, and Chris loves how easy it is to get a reaction from him; he can feel that manifest on his face, can feel a smile tug his lips and a similar one blossom over Darren's, and they're so caught up in each other that Chris bites down on Darren's lip in surprise when Darren bends his legs and pushes them apart and presses up between his cheeks.

" _Fuck_." He reaches down to steady himself and then settles, their faces pressed together from forehead to chin as he sinks inside.

Chris breathes frantically, trying to let it happen without tension. It feels good—no burn, hardly, just pressure and heat and fullness, so he knows he's in the right mood, knows that even though they've rushed they're good to go.

"Feels good," he whimpers, lifting his thighs high to let Darren's body against his.

Darren nudges their noses, side by side. "Stay with me, okay?"

Chris blinks up at him, feeling the sweat curl down the back of his neck and the humidity of their shared breathing fan across his cheeks.

At first he doesn't realize what Darren means, but then he checks himself—he finds safety in getting swept away by the physical, he knows that, but usually it's okay, or it's Will and he _can't_ hide from Will because Will is his other half and it's impossible. But Darren is—Darren. He's a lot. And he's special, even though it's taken Chris years to accept that, to not let it piss him off or alienate him or make him want to reject it out of hand.

Darren kisses him, soft and slow, and gently pulls out of his body, and then gently pushes back in, and Chris' skin goes hot and his ass clenches and he moans, wide-eyed, right in Darren's face.

"That's it," Darren says, kissing his nose, his cheek, his temple, making him tingle and twist under the assault.

Trembling, Chris shifts one hand from Darren's spine to his ass, cups the sweaty, hairy cheek and pulls. He's deep, and it's a lot but not too much; Darren's a fairly average size. He holds him there and rolls down against him, returns thrust for thrust, lets their bodies rock together. It's harder to deal with being watched than _doing_ , harder to not become trapped by the intimacy and affection in those blown, hazel eyes.

But it's—okay. It's okay.

Actually, it's sort of better than okay. It makes everything so much _more_ , every rock of Darren's hips between his thighs, every touch of Darren's balls against his lubricant-sticky skin. Every kiss, every sweep of lips over the sharp curve of his jaw, and when Darren gets close he shudders a breath in Chris' ear that sends warm thrills trampling over Chris' skin.

"Oh, god," Chris whimpers, as Darren begins to go faster, shake harder.

Without asking Darren bends his legs up so that his calves almost fold alongside his thighs, then spreads them out on either side of his body like a butterfly's wings until they touch the bed. It stings his muscles and then it doesn't, and he gasps in surprise as Darren thrusts deeply.

"Fuck, so good," he groans, burying his face in Chris' throat.

"Oh my god, there." All at once he can feel the scrape over his prostate and the surge at the base of his cock and he grips Darren's sweaty shoulders and twists to maintain the contact, head thrown back, Darren's mouth at his throat. "Oh god oh god."

"Yeah?" He moves faster, sharper, cradling Chris beneath him. "Right there? Right there?"

"Fuck fuck _fuck_ —"

"Wanna make you come," he growls, digging in, pushing Chris into the mattress and latching onto a patch of skin just beneath his ear. He jackhammers relentlessly forward, Chris' cock ground between their bellies. "Come on, come on."

Chris is so close, but it's just this shade of not enough without a touch. He locks his elbows around Darren's neck and pulls him in closer, gets the friction against his belly tighter, and as a result they're practically glued together, his legs flared out alongside them and Darren's pelvis slamming home against his cheeks. It's fucking perfect. He presses his face to Darren's shoulder and holds on tighter, encased by flesh on all sides, his ass throbbing and full and slick.

"Don't stop," he whimpers, high-pitched, clawing Darren's back. "Oh fuck, fuck me fuck me just—like that— _Darren_ —"

"Wanna watch you," Darren says, kissing him. "Wanna watch you fall the fuck apart."

"Close—shit—"

He can feel the rough drag of Darren's belly over his cock, catching the underside of the head and sticking; Darren pushes into him to keep the friction despite all the sweat, and his left hand spasms around Darren's shoulder blade. He digs his fingertips in, writhes his pelvis, his belly, his chest, anything to keep them moving together, anything to keep the tension from resetting.

When he spills it's glorious, a rush of intense relief and the wet, jolting suddenness of come painting his chest, Darren's mouth swallowing his moans. He floats on it, tingling and hot, then comes down, flashes popping behind his eyelids as Darren strokes damp hair back off of his forehead and kisses the side of his throat where his pulse is slamming against his skin.

He gives himself a moment, then unfolds his legs, straightening them and placing them gently against Darren's shoulders. Darren stares at him in surprise, touching his thighs. Raising his legs to the ceiling like that exposes him completely. Darren slides through the sweat and lubricant and shudders, hitching his pelvis.

"Like this?" he asks, voice rough.

Chris bites his swollen bottom lip and nods, rolling his ass in a slow circle. "Yeah. Inside me."

His throat is scratchy and his breath still ahead of him, but the words come out so softly. He can see the bare emotion on Darren's face and his throat closes up tight, though the lust demanding Darren's orgasm is not far behind, and it's enough to keep him from wanting to recoil from how dangerously open he feels right now.

With his legs in the air it's easy to reach around, to hold Darren's ass and hips as he grinds the rest of the way. He's been close for a while, Chris can tell, and it only takes a dozen or so hard, deep presses before he's panting, his sweat-glistening throat and chest seizing up with it. He's gorgeous when he comes, wild and masculine and joyful, and he laughs through it, turning his face against Chris' hairy thigh and biting down as he spurts. He kisses Chris' bare legs until he can't stay on his knees any longer, then lowers them and himself to the bed.

Chris rolls over onto his stomach, not caring about the mess, and sprawls on the sheets and toward his pillow, savoring the burn in his ass and the feel of Darren's come and the lubricant combining to form such a mess inside of him. He loves the way that it feels when he shifts around, loves the wet warmth that throbs outward from that spot to encompass his entire body.

He drapes an arm across Darren's stomach and feels himself tugged closer. Darren kisses his slack mouth and then his forehead, slumping against the pillows between them.

"Mm," Chris hums, eyelids dipping.

"Fucking perfect," Darren sighs. They lie there cooling off, Darren's arm draped over Chris', and then he asks, "Any special occasion or was the mood just right?"

Chris grunts sleepily, smiling, "Stop fishing."

"Not fishing. Maybe hunting," Darren replies, twisting up his face into a goofy expression.

Chris snorts a laugh. He supposes that earns Darren something. "Felt weird, all that—romantic crap in front of the cameras and then we didn't even talk about it. Missed you. Just—felt right."

Darren's chest rises and falls evenly and then he says into the quiet, "I love you, too, you fucking weirdo."

"Go to sleep," Chris whispers, grinning like an idiot as Darren mutters things about his inability to just ask a dude out for coffee or dinner or a blowjob like any normal human being.

 

*

 

He wakes up several hours later, but only because the bed dips with an unexpected weight. Darren is still asleep beside him, snoring loudly, and so for a moment he's freaked out—until he inhales and catches the scent of Will's cologne and then he breathes out relief, feeling a knot of happiness cinch and then unfurl in his chest.

Will has one knee on the bed and his hands on his shirt cuffs, and is staring at the bed quizzically. The hallway light throws a sharp halo around him.

"Hey," he whispers, undoing his tie, then taking off his shirt. He unbuckles his belt and shimmies out of his pants, then kneels beside Chris. "Mm, this is nice to come home to—how are my guys?"

"Hey," Chris says, feeling Will budge up against his side. "Mm, you smell good, c'mere."

Will's fingers search along his tacky skin, and he smiles. "You must've worked him over good; didn't even clean up before you passed out."

"Actually," Chris replies wickedly, "he worked me over."

He can almost feel Will's eyebrows go up. "Oh, really?" Will's hand skims lower and finds the sticky-dry mess all over Chris' cheeks and thighs. "Wish I could've watched."

Chris bites his lip, then spreads himself a little, encouraging Will's fingers to explore. "Still full of him," he whispers, flushing hot. "All wet." He drops his gaze to Will's boxers, licks out over his lips. "Wanna feel?" Will's fingers creep lower, brushing his' hole. "Actually." Chris rolls over onto his side, giving Will his back, savoring the warm press of Will's hard body. "I meant—you could fuck me, too."

"Sweetheart," Will breathes, wrapping his fingers around Chris' hip. "God, you needed it tonight, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Chris admits, and it's so easy confessing it to Will. He nudges his ass back against Will's crotch; Will's interest already very clear.

"Want me to fuck you right through his mess?" Will whispers, kissing his earlobe.

He shivers, scrambling behind his leg to get Will's boxers off. "Yeah. Fuck, yeah, please." The moment his legs part he can feel a dribble of come leak out; he groans, clenching and unclenching, as Will finds the lubricant bottle on the bed and slicks himself. "Oh god. Now. Come on, I'm—wet. Need it." His ass feels excruciatingly empty.

He listens to Will stroke himself fully hard in the darkness of the bedroom, then begins to breathe faster when Will lifts his leg and presses in between his cheeks.

Darren wakes up sometime between that and the bed beginning to shake with Will pushing inside of him, groaning, "Oh, god, baby, you're so _open_."

"Darren," Chris moans, hands fluttering over the sheets.

"I'm awake," he murmurs, sliding his hands down Chris' belly. "Mm, got you." He wraps his right hand around Chris' cock and pulls.

Something needy and sloppy explodes inside Chris' gut at that and he reaches out, grabs Darren's arm and pulls him in close. He wants to be surrounded by them, Will's comforting presence and scent and body behind him, Darren sweet and eager and familiar in front of him, and they both seem to get that instantly. Will holds him from behind, fucks into him slow and careful as Darren presses against him and fists his cock with rough, twisting passes, and he buries his face in Darren's neck and lifts his leg higher and lets them have him.

He whimpers, turning his cheek to get at air that isn't someone's breath, and Darren latches onto his throat and Will his shoulder, and they're both murmuring and he can't even keep track of the litany of _got you_ and _so good, love_ and _just like that_ and _oh fuck oh god Chris_. He lets the praise, the warnings, the declarations run over him like warm water, feeling so safe and loved and taken care of between them that he would let them do anything to him that they wanted.

Darren's fingers dip down past his balls and between his cheeks, touch him where he's sensitive and swollen and wet, touch Will's cock as it spears Chris' abused hole. He makes a strangled noise, bringing his messy fingers back up.

"Still fucking full of my come,” he growls, kissing Chris roughly.

"Give it to me," Chris gasps, reaching for his wrist. Darren doesn't get it at first, and then he does, and he groans as Chris sucks his fingers down to the last knuckle, licking the spendings from them with hungry little noises.

"Fuck," Darren hisses, working Chris' mouth with his fingers. "Oh fuck, yes, lick it all off."

Chris' heart beats faster. Darren pulls away again, kisses along his bicep and then leans up and over, and he listens to Darren kissing Will over his shoulder. It sends a happy thrill through him when they whisper hello to each other.

After that, Darren slides down the bed and begins mouthing at Chris' belly.

"Don't—" He's already reaching, despite himself.

"I'm right here, darlin'," Darren says, holding Chris' hip bone under his right hand.

 _I want you closer_ , Chris doesn't say.

"Just want to make you feel good," he adds, and takes Chris' half-hard cock into his mouth.

"Oh," Chris groans, hips twitching.

Will resumes a moment later, reasserting his hold on Chris' sweaty knee, and Chris lets him, goes still and easy as Will fills him again and again, the force of his thrusts sending him rocking right into Darren's mouth with every pass. The rhythm is filthy and perfect and Chris doesn't have to do anything but let himself move between them, let them touch him exactly as they know he likes.

He does put his fingers in Darren's hair, which earns him a whimper. And then Will tucks up closer, spreads his cheeks and begins grinding into him with harsh pants, kissing his neck and ear and hair until he can't suppress the desire for Will's kisses and turns, captures Will's lips and lashes them open with his tongue and spears inside.

Warmth and affection bleeds over his skin like wildfire and he whimpers, melting against Will's chest. It's like finding home in the middle of a tornado spiral, that mouth under his, and the emotion bubbles and bubbles until he feels like dizzy with it.

"Love you," he blurts, rocking between Will's cock and Darren's mouth, the sensations making him stupid and rubbery. He tightens his fingers in Darren's hair to get his attention and repeats himself, threadbare because Darren is swallowing around him, "Love you."

They both hum acknowledgement and he soars, heart racing.

"Please," he gasps, gripping Will's ass. "Want yours, too." The desire snaps and flickers higher, harder, and he clutches Will's arm around his waist and loops his free leg down around Darren's body and clings, letting his orgasm chase his resolve. "So close.”

There's a muffled encouraging noise from Darren, who is deep-throating him like a champ, and a wild, sudden groan from Will, who is also close, his hips slapping Chris' ass, but Chris comes first, sobbing and twisting against Darren's. It feels like falling apart after the last one, which had not been so very long ago. Darren swallows him down easily, then strokes him through the aftershocks, coming back up the bed as promised. Chris isn't even embarrassed of how he reaches for him, pushes his fingers through his hair to his neck and drags him into a fierce kiss. He can taste himself in Darren's mouth and groans, licking deeper to get at it.

Will is pounding into him, now, holding off for his sake alone, making them both shake. Chris wraps his arms around Darren's neck and feels Darren scoot up between his spread legs.

"He feel good?" Darren rasps, sucking Chris' tongue. "Pretty, tight little ass must be so sore. Hm?"

Chris holds on, savoring every thrust, letting Darren share the movement with him. "Fuck yeah. Keep touching me."

Will comes inside of him with a cry, and Chris narrowly avoids biting down on Darren's tongue in the process. He smiles into the kiss as an apology, strokes a hand down Will's sweaty flank as Will carefully edges out. Chris shivers, feeling his body try to clench up, but that's twice now and he isn't as tight as he was earlier. Their combined mess drips down his cheeks.

He reaches feebly for Darren's cock, only to find him soft.

"I kind of jerked off while you were in my throat," Darren admits, smirking. "It's—all down there. Sorry. Fucking gross.”

Chris laughs, feeling Will's arms tighten around him. "Lovely." Around and over his thigh and hip, he feels Will and Darren reach for each other, feels their hands lace over his skin.

"Should've brought the damned hose to bed, you both stink," Will says, earning a pair of kicks. "It's true, damn!" He smiles. “At least I had warning via the pile of clothes at the bottom of the stairs. You're both so freakin' thoughtful.”

"I feel I should be carried to the tub," Chris says, "as my ass was the entertainment this evening."

Darren smirks. Will rolls his eyes. They kiss him in turn, tipping his face this way and then that, and he can't help but crack and smile back them both, bracketing him as sweetly as they are.

"I'll settle for a Diet Coke and a cookie?" he asks, forcing the pout.

"That sounds good, except make mine a brownie," Darren says.

"Let me guess: I've been volunteered?" Will asks.

"You were the last to arrive to the party," Chris says. “And I'm not sure if your dick counts, so you technically also arrived empty-handed. Rude, Sherrod. _Rude_.”

"My dick totally counts,” Will replies. ”You're lucky that I love you both as much as I do," he adds as he rolls off of the bed. "You've got ten minutes to make this bed and yourselves look and smell less like a porno. Then and only then will snacks will be dispensed."

"There are conditions to our love," Chris observes mock-sadly, sprawling like a starfish.

"We could make out in the shower to pass the time," Darren points out.

Chris narrows his eyes. He is unlaced and happy, all of his earlier moody contemplativeness fucked right out of him, replaced by the strength of his feelings for these men.

"You may be on to something,” he admits with a smile.


End file.
